


Concession

by Chordewa



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chordewa/pseuds/Chordewa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A decision is made regarding those Uchiha who defected during the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concession

**Author's Note:**

> Edited 30/09/16

_They should die._

Stripped of any clan crest, the deserters knelt under the noonday sun and Madara's dark gaze. Not one of them dared to raise their head and look him in the eyes.

They were cowards. Traitors.

_They should die._ At any other time in the history of their clan, they would've. At any other time in their history, he would've ended each of their lives with a swing of his kusarigama—no _seppuku_ for the likes of them—while the others trembled in the dirt and watched. Afterwards, their eyes would've been destroyed and their bodies burnt to ashes so none could learn the secrets of the Sharingan. A funeral beyond what they deserved, but one that was necessary. This was simply the way things were.

Things could never be simple when Hashirama was involved.

"They came to me in surrender," he'd said, light from the campfire deepening his troubled frown. "I promised them my protection." He lifted his sake cup to his lips and drained the last of its contents. Hashirama had offered to pour a cup for Madara, but he'd refused and made his unpleasant demand instead. He needed his head to be as clear as possible when dealing with this man. Hashirama curled his fingers around the bottle and sat it on his knee, looking at the fire as if the flames held a solution. He turned to Madara to speak. "They only wanted to survive."

Madara's lip curled with disgust. "By running off and aiding _the enemy_."

"I'm not your enemy. Not anymore." Hashirama's gaze was intent and unblinking. "Am I?"

For someone so willing to die for peace, Hashirama was strangely reluctant to let anyone else to do so. Madara doubted that he'd jeopardise the truce he'd wanted so badly over a handful of faithless defectors. If he refused to concede on this matter, Hashirama would be there in the morning to watch their heads roll. That wasn't what was at stake here.

It was a test, the first of their newborn alliance. It was a test to see if Madara _would_ concede, if he was willing to make compromises. If he was truly willing to work _with_ Hashirama, without every decision being a battle of wills between two people who were both used to getting their own way. In short, it was a test to see if he still wanted this to work as much Hashirama did.

Madara sighed and reached over to tug the sake bottle out of Hashirama's grip. Their fingers brushed. It was just skin, tough and marred with calluses. Nothing remarkable at all, but the nerves in Madara's fingers lit up as they'd done when they'd shaken hands to formally establish their alliance.

He filled Hashirama's sake cup and set the bottle down as if nothing had happened. The grin that spread over Hashirama's face couldn't be described as anything but 'sunny.' He gave Madara's shoulder a squeeze and moved over so that they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. "Forgiveness is necessary to make this work, don't you think?" he said, pouring sake into a second cup and all but shoving it at Madara, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

Madara rolled his eyes. "Shut up," he said good-naturedly, accepting the cup and lifting it to his lips to take a sip. It tasted sweet.

Standing now in the morning sun with Hashirama by his side, Madara stepped towards the line of Uchiha deserters with their heads bowed in penance. _They should die_ he thought one last time as he extended his hand and helped the first man to his feet. _But they will live._


End file.
